The Gold Envelope
by katyedavis
Summary: Hermione had finally opened a letter that Dumbledore had made out specifically for her. However, what she reads on the inside isn't quite what she had expected.


**A/N: This is round 2 for the finals and I'm Chaser 1 of the Wimbourne Wasps. We had a very rough one this round. I wrote a Hermione!Pureblood story and my prompts are listed below:**

 **#7: (word) choice  
#8: (dialogue) "why do you have to make everything so complicated?"  
#13: (word) temptation**

The Gold Envelope

It had been several months since the war, and Hermione found herself walking down a completely deserted path. It was quite beautiful with the sun setting behind the trees and the sound of the fallen leaves beneath her worn leather flats. She felt at peace, and it had been the first time in a long time that she had felt this way.

However, there was something that had been eating away at her for quite some time. She thought back to the moment when the Minister of Magic had given out all the belongings Dumbledore had left them. He had pulled her aside and handed her this gold, iridescent envelope that had a date on it. It was a date that had been set a year later.

"You are not to open this until this exact moment," he had whispered, handing the envelope over to her.

She just nodded firmly before he left, but the temptation had almost been too much for her. She had pondered the envelope that day, but soon forgot about it.

As the light, fall breeze blew through her curly locks, she remembered looking up at the sky this morning. It was light blue with hints of purple and yellow as the sun rose before her tiny shack. She had read the letter, and she wished she hadn't. A part of her resented the contents, and the other part wished she had known sooner.

"Why do you have to make everything so complicated?" she shouted to the wispy clouds that had begun to form.

She hoped Dumbledore could hear her, but she had no clue. She doubted that she ever would. The scabbed over brand on her arm hadn't bothered her much today like it had before she read the letter. She thought that it might be because she didn't identify with it any longer, but she didn't know. She looked at and all that it stood for, but she scowled. It was on her arm, and it was wrong.

A few hours had passed and the path had been dark for quite some time. She knew she had to return to her shack before they came to look for her. Harry and Ron worried about her more than ever since the war ended, and they insisted on frequent checkups.

"There you are!" Ron shouted from the front door.

Hermione walked quietly up the path with a forced smile on her face. She couldn't let them know just how confused and upset she really was. She couldn't tell them until she knew how.

"I just went for a little walk," she answered, hugging Ron lightly as she walked inside with him.

"Well, you shouldn't be out walking by yourself at this time of night," Harry scolded, handing her a steaming hot mug of tea.

"I'm really alright, you know. You guys don't have to check on me so much," she said hoarsely.

They rolled their eyes. She should have known better than to try and get out of that one. They would check on her for the rest of their lives and then some. It wasn't that she wasn't grateful to have them around to make sure she was taken care of, but she wasn't used to keeping secrets like this from them. She could keep small things a secret, such as who hid their parchment or who hexed their quill. She had never kept anything like this.

"Are you guys hungry?" she asked, mentally slapping herself.

Of course they were hungry! They were Ron and Harry. She turned the stove on to boil the water, and then she sat down at the table. She couldn't keep her happy face on much longer. They knew something was up immediately.

"Is your injury hurting you again?" Ron questioned, motioning to her forearm.

"Surprisingly not," she answered, giving the opened gold envelope a sideways glance.

It had been sitting on her couch where she had last left it, and it was displayed for anyone who was curious enough to read. Luckily, her friends hadn't been that curious, but it wouldn't take long.

"Did you have another nightmare?" Harry questioned, sitting across from her.

"Not a nightmare." She shook her head.

They were never good at the guessing game, but this couldn't be guessed. This was something that needed a detailed explanation like the one Dumbledore provided in the letter.

"Then what?" Ron wondered, staring at her intently.

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but she couldn't find the words. She couldn't explain this. The only thing she knew to do was to let them read it for themselves. She bolted up from her chair and delicately picked up the letter that had been sitting there. After all, what choice did she really have?

"Dumbledore had written me a letter," Hermione said quickly.

That was all she had to say and they began to read. Their expressions grew to be more and more puzzled as the letter came to an end. They looked like she did when they had read it all; confused and at a loss. They kept glancing at the brand on her arm and back to the letter.

She had done all of this before they arrived, but she was becoming more and more at peace with the information.

"So, let me get this straight. You are Gellert Grindelwald's daughter?" Harry questioned.

"Apparently so," Hermione answered.

"That would make you...a lot older than 18," Ron commented.

"There was some sort of life ritual that he cast on me until I was put in a good home. Fortunately enough, the Grangers adopted me and then the ritual was broken," Hermione explained.

They looked at her, even more confused than before.

"Did you actually read all of the letter? Dumbledore explained everything," Hermione quizzed curiously.

"I read that Cordelia Heathcock was a pureblood witch that died after you were born, and Gellert was a pureblood as well...so that would make you a-"

"Pureblood witch," Hermione interrupted Harry.

They stopped and just glanced from her to the parchment and then back to her.

"This is all so...bloody insane," Ron said with a sigh, leaning back in his chair.

"The first thing I wanted to do was find Draco Malfoy and punch him with this fist," she laughed, holding up her mudblood tattooed arm.

"Do you feel any different?" Harry whispered.

"Why should I feel different? Did you expect me to hop out of this shack with every piece of jewelry I own, a fur coat, a wad of money and anxiously wait for my pureblood suitor at some rich banquet? I'm still the same me. I'm Hermione Granger...just a higher ranked version," she said with a smile.

She hadn't been able to genuinely smile since the war, and it felt quite unfamiliar. They were able to just sit and talk like that for some time. Now she was finally able to feel like she was one of them. That's really all she had wanted through her years of school, and even in the moments after.

She wanted to belong.

Even though it wasn't quite the situation that she imagined it would be, she was happy. Who knew that a little gold envelope would change her life forever? She couldn't be sure that she would be happy this way forever, but she had learned to feel in the moment.

That's all she wanted.


End file.
